My voice is on the web. I am such a sheep. Baaaaaaa.....when I go to New York and New Jersey this spring, I'll be a Sheep in the Big City. I missed my cartoons so much, I went ahead and had my standard cable reconnected.

By the way, here is the Ann Coulter thing to which I refer in my brief blither. There are more things that feminists despise than you can shake a stick at, excuse me grammar police.

I served as a reproductive rights escort at Planned Parenthood, and I can tell you, MEN waving pictures of dismembered and disfigured fetuses in my face and shouting that I'm going to their hell while I'm trying to help a terrified 14-year-old and her mom up the steps is a hateful thing. Ann, you ignorant slut, think a minute before you spout off. Oh wait, that's right. You're a pundit. You don't have to think. You just have to flog us with verbal nettles and watch us roll in discomfort. That image should give the phrase "inflammatory rhetoric" a whole new meaning, especially for us country bumpkins who have had nettle rash.

Seen on Sunday afternoon: Two robins. We were parked at a gas station outside Ann Arbor, Michigan, on our way home from the now infamous meeting. They looked damn damn cold, but by all the gods and goddesses, they were robins. This is a good sign.

Seen on Saturday afternoon: Morgan happily parked at a table eating pizza with Rachel and a friend at Marvelous Marvin's. The din inside the place was incredible, yet Mo was perfectly content. She wasn't cringing or doing her continuous startle reflex at the noise. The photo booth strip has Mo and Rachel both smiling and goofy. This is also a good sign.

Seen by Josh and passers-by at a grocery store earlier on Saturday: Joan and I discussing the relative merits of different kinds of chocolate. That must have been a good sign.

Seen Friday night after dinner: Pictures of a much younger Josh (and Jeremy en familie) in England and various other places. Awwwww...such adorable children, who apparently did not like to wear pants. Heehee. Good sign.

Seen earlier Friday evening: Morgan NOT getting car sick after eight hours in the back seat. This is new, and yes, a good sign.

By all accounts, the visit went well. We were fed well, regaled well with tales, boarded well, and I think that one Sally Field quote would fit here. You know which one. My fears were unfounded.

Okay, well, I'm off to H&R Block. Time to pay for the privilege of not having to deal with the ex. There is no price too high to pay for that privilege. I'll withhold judgement as to the nature of this sign.